The Vicious Cabaret
by Cat Soup
Summary: Two years have passed since the destruction of Parliament and England witnessing an era of revolution and renewal. A new generation has taken up the cause V started. [V for Vendetta][VxEvey]
1. Vanilla

**Disclaimer**: I do not own "V for Vendetta" in any way, shape, or form. The movie, noveln, and comics are all copyrighted by their respective owners. (Wachowski Brothers, Steve Moore, Alan Moore, David Lloyd.) I do not own any of the characters. (Although I wish I could say otherwise in V's case.) Also, this fanfiction is getting an MA warning. That means adults only. Knowing me, there will probably be language, sexual themes, or violence. Enjoy!

**Notes**: I guess you can call this an AU. It all takes place after the bombing of Parliament. Also, this is based off of the movie (and movie novel) version of the story. There may be extra tidbits of information that are outside of the movie, obtained either from the comic or movie novel.

Support V fan fictions! Let's get our own section soon!

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On the eve of V's revolution, no one knew what to expect. After the awe of Parliament's destruction, it dawned upon the masses that something needed to be done to stabilize the state of things. Many bewildered admirers of the scene clung to the idea of autonomy, of an independent anarchical society. However, the majority believed in the restoration of a government. Not to be mistaken with the fascist regime which dominated their lives after the Reclamation. No. A government which would not oppress its people, that would allow them independence and freedom whilst retaining fair order. How, when, or what form of government would assert itself in the absence of Sutler's regime was yet to be seen.

Two years have passed since that fateful day. Since then, considerable progress had been made towards a more promising future for England. An almost democratic, self-governing state had assumed power over the majority of the country. The officials entirely appointed by the public, who possessed the absolute ability to govern themselves- save for the fundamental laws which allowed people to live harmoniously. For many, the entire function of the government was merely to handle foreign policy, which could not be done on an individual basis. For this purpose, ambassadors were necessary.

Two years after the destruction of Parliament, Evey found herself seated on a familiar couch watching a familiar movie. It was none other than The Count of Monte Cristo, viewed from the comfort of the Shadow Gallery. She had lived here since that day.

"_Find your own tree."_

Evey smiled.

"How many times have you watched this already?" A voice inquired from the other end of the loveseat. "A few hundred times? Maybe more?"

"Oh c'mon now Dominic." Retorted Evey, in a semi-playful (and semi-annoyed) tone. She jokingly grabbed a cushion from out behind her and tossed it at him from her end, only to have him catch it and tuck it behind his back for comfort.

Dominic, although somewhat disillusioned by the myriad of coincidences which riddled Sutler's regime, was as optimistic and as good a man as ever. He had met Evey shortly after the incidents of that memorable November 5th through her befriending Finch.

There were several occasions on which Evey and Finch met to discuss, among many things, V. Finch had often hoped to drain any tidbit of information regarding V from his female compatriot. Not that it mattered to the current state of affairs. He had simply wished to quell his curiosity. Though, much to Finch's surprise, Evey knew relatively little about her year long companion. It was actually Finch who was able to fill in the gaps to Evey. Thus, they bonded. A relationship held together by a thin wire, all leading from V. Finch provided the facts, Evey provided the motivation. This way, they were able to better understand the man in the mask. It wasn't long until Finch would introduce Dominic to his private acquaintance.

Following the events of November 5th, Finch's position as police chief had remained in tact. He had served a rather fine and unbiased term, despite his party allegiance. Dominic had also remained under him until recently, when Finch retired and resigned his position over to his young pupil. Finch, now spending the remainder of his days in leisure, accompanied the two less frequently now a day. It was their generation which would shape the future, and Finch had decided that after he had acquired all there was to know about V, that it would be time to step out of the picture.

Dominic initially had no interest in meeting Evey. For him, the ordeal of the "organization known as V" ended when Parliament was destroyed. It was only by Finch constantly dragging him along to meet with the girl that he had called "Bad Luck." However, it did not take long for her to spark his intrigue.

Despite her normalcy, her optimistic exterior, Evey was quite the enigma. There was something about her that was so calm and unfeeling that it almost gave Dominic the chills.

"Well." Dominic began to rise to his feet, lightly smoothing out his shirt. "I better be heading out."

"I guess it is getting late. Sometimes I lose track of time down here." Evey ran her fingers through her hair. It had grown back since then; a little passed her shoulders now.

Dominic was the up and coming example of the generation which would lead England out of its chaos. Although he was far more involved in the political process than he cared for, he had a solemn seriousness regarding his duty as police chief. Since the revolution, the country had been heavily demilitarized. The army had been reduced to mere thousands, in order to prevent any regimes from instilling themselves through force. Thus the police force was responsible for keeping law and order- how it should've been in the first place. In the government, at least, was no more "Finger" or co-operative "Head" for that matter. The remainder of Sutler's inner counsel had been disbanded and pushed to the outskirts of England.

Dominic may have been at the forefront of revolution politics, but Evey played a heavy hand in them as well. Evey spent some of her time managing a flower stand, still under the guise of a fake identity. Her collaborations with the current democracy were all done in secret. For even in this new liberated day and age, the girl known as Evey Hammond still had enemies. Not everyone wanted a revolution, especially those who had been well off under Sutler's control.

However, Evey caused a lot of sway within the newly formed "congress." Along with Finch, Evey was able to bring to light the crimes committed by Sutler's regime. Perhaps the most prominent of which was revealing the truth behind the St. Mary's virus. She spent many hours conversing privately with representatives to get legislation passed in order to ensure rights for citizens, decontaminating quarantined areas, and for the general good of the public. This was the lighter side of her responsibilities.

There still remained the loyalists to Sutler. England was still divided. While democratic process had invariably spread over most of the continent, along with the power and state of the current congress, the northernmost portion of England was still under the control of Sutler's former lackeys. Just north of Durham, along the border of Scotland, these remaining Norsefire loyalists plotted against the new political leaders of the time. Whereas V destroyed the previous political institution in order to bring about peace, it was Evey's time to protect it. And she protected it fearlessly. Evey had learned a thing or two since V's death.

This was the part of Evey that Finch and Dominic bring up.

Evey, taking on the guise of V, had become the personal protectorate to the new government and its officials. She was by no means as quick or as skillful as V, but during a year long seclusion in the Shadow Gallery, she had become quite formidable. The main purpose behind this was to intimidate the Norsefire rebels. If they believed that V was still alive, they had plenty to fear. However, much of this dealing was done in secret from the public. There was no need to give people a renewed hope in the existence of V, for they may treat it as a crutch. Evey knew that independence was key to the nation's survival.

Otherwise, Evey lived a comfortable live. She operated her flower stand on a quiet corner, selling among other things, Violet Carsons. It was more of a passion than anything else, for she was supported sufficiently by congressional officials, on what they considered too meager a funding. She never asked for much, just sustenance, which they were more than willing to give. She was, after all, central to the revolution. Aside from the occasional visits from Finch and Dominic, she enjoyed the majority of her time in seclusion, deep within the Shadow Gallery.

Dominic moved towards the door. "Don't stay up too late now, ok?"

"Banging on about what's good for me again?" Evey pouted.

"Alright, alright." Dominic offered her a slight wave before he exited. "We'll be discussing plans for the celebration. You might want to drop by." The office being the new, temporary building in which congressional meetings were being held. Dominic, though a police chief rather than representative, was often invited to witness the state of things. He could've very well been the head of such a committee, if he cared to. It was the middle of October, and they were in the process of planning the annual celebration of parliament's destruction.

Evey sighed and reclined back against the couch as he took his leave. It had been just about two years now. Well, almost. Two years since V died. The rest of the country would celebrate while she took the event as a bittersweet memorial. The days of black bagging and censorship were over, that much is true... But since then have been the days without V. The idea that he came to embody was like all ideas in that it was intangible. It couldn't love or caress her. Not like V could.

_Oh, V. _

She slowly began to slip unconsciously into the sweet lull of dreams. In her dreams, V was still alive.

He was still waiting for her there. In the center of the Shadow Gallery leaning over the Jukebox, V waited for her to share a dance with him.

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Sorry that its starting out slow. I just want to introduce the setting before I get into the plot. I plan to take my time with this.


	2. Veiled

**Thank you for your reviews**! V for Vendetta fan fictions seem to be gaining popularity.

By the way, the title "The Vicious Cabaret" is actually the name of a song that V writes in the graphic novel. If you're lucky, you can find the V for Vendetta soundtrack as performed by David J. If not, you can find his "On Glass" CD up for download somewhere, and it will contain this song. I just found it interesting.

**Check out:** EV: Ever Vigilant, Verbose Variations of V and Evey. (If you want VxEvey, Verbose is awesome.)

Italics would be a memory/flashback.

Sorry I haven't updated. Kept getting timed out last time I tried.

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Across the town, in a rather humble apartment complex, there lived a man in seclusion. Despite the fact that he had lived there for a year, hardly a soul knew his room was occupied. Most of his neighbors didn't know he existed; give for the landlord collecting rent through the mailbox on the first of every month.

Some often wondered if he worked, for he never seemed to leave the house. Never once could a neighbor recall seeing him walk out of that apartment. His necessities were always ordered by phone. In the morning, on every second Tuesday of the month, an envelope would be placed taped to the front of his door. By the late afternoon, it would be replaced by two bags of groceries. All of his bills were paid in this fashion. Rent, groceries, and the like.

As a matter of fact, he ordered in very small quantities and requested very little in the way of living conditions. The only request that he had was that his room be the one in the corner, the one with the window overlooking the quiet streets below. He wanted to make certain that it was just opposite of a specific street corner. A corner where, on some sunny afternoons, a certain girl operated a flower stand in her spare time.

The landlords only knew him as Vincent, the man in room number five. The man who demanded so little of the world as to hardly make a dent. Little did they know that just two years before he had made much, much more than a dent. In fact, he pretty much created a crater where Parliament once stood.

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_The sound of the old train engine roaring through the vacuous Victoria street tunnel overpowered the usual silence. One second, V would feel himself shaking back and forth on the makeshift platform which Evey had assembled to be his final resting place. Then the next second, he would feel nothing at all.V had not known how much time had passed in this fashion, dipping in and out of life as simply as one dabbles in passing thoughts, but he knew the end of the tunnel would be nearing soon._

_He lifted his form slowly, and tilted his head ever so slightly as he observed a cascade of Violet Carsons being shed from his body. She had placed them there._

_He had no time to waste._

_V struggled as he slid off of the platform on which Evey had so meticulously prepared for his death. Most of his body lacked any sensation, and what was not numb was overcome with pain. Stumbling to this door, he reached out to grab the emergency exit handle on the right side. His fingers were stiff, and refused to splay themselves in order to grab and trigger the bar._

_Uttering a dissatisfied "Uhn." V lent his left shoulder against the doorway as he used his left hand to trigger the emergency release. Perhaps the damage on his right hand was so substantial that he had lost control over it entirely? Upon triggering the emergency exit the doors instantly swung open, and falling victim to his own misplaced weight V tumbled heavily out of the quickly speeding train and onto the nearby platform._

_So he found himself, sprawled across a cold tile floor in a long abandoned subway line. His train, his grand masterpiece was just mere minutes away from success. A success long in the making. However, it was not without a bittersweet tinge._

_For once Parliament had been destroyed, Evey would know in her heart that he was truly no more. V himself did not know if he would survive the night, bleeding heavily on the subway pavement, but even if he would, Evey could not know. So V lay there in utter silence, waiting for death's verdict, for even if he shall live he would know Evey no longer. _

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Two years had passed since that night, and V now found himself a recluse in the center of a society in which he chose to disassociate himself with. He had lived that night. He had dozed off shortly after hearing the roaring echo of the explosion half expecting death to await him in his sleep. But no. He barely remembered the moment he regained consciousness. He had not known how many days had passed, but he felt the pang of a semisweet victory.

Creedy, Sutler, all of them. They were all dead while he had survived. He understood well that he could not return to Evey. For she would be far better off if he were to not return. When he had left her, despite her tears, he knew her resolve would be strong and unwaivering. He knew the courage by which she would face his death, and had no desire to go back on that.

The only thing which tied him to this world now was Evey. For the year following the aftermath of Parliament's destruction, he took several lodgings using provisions which he had stored during his years as a vigilante. He kept a distant, yet watchful eye over his successor. This fashion of loosely observing Evey had lead him to his current lodging.

On some lucky afternoons, he would spy through the folds of his blinds and find the precious girl he left behind selling his favorite roses. Valerie's roses. Silently he would observe as she chatted with passersby, smiled, or received visits from now familiar faces.

Faces such as Dominic. A man that he only recognized as the man who conked Evey with the butt of his pistol just after she pepper sprayed him. How odd it may seem that they have become friends, when after all, the boundaries that once divided them was deliberately broken down by V. Evey was no longer a fugitive, and Dominic was no longer the lapdog of the government.

Though some days V would silently observe her through the slits of his blinds, on many days he fancied pretending that she was in his company. He might watch a movie, or read a book aloud, pretending as if he heard him and would share in a conversation. V contented himself with this lifestyle. He convinced himself that they were both rather well off in this fashion, and that since he had already resolved himself to die that he had equally resolved to live without her.

And that since she had faced his death, she had been resolved to continue on without him as well. A thought that V had pondered on many a sleepless night.

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Its getting late, so I must sleep. Next chapter I'll start responding to individual reviews and comments.


	3. Visitation

**Note**: In the end of the movie, when Finch is speaking on his experience at Larkhill he has a series of thoughts and images flash by. Of these images, of things that he believes may happen, there is one with Evey in a green dress and a man in her mirror. I believe this is Finch, or quite possibly Dominic. Anybody know? Hell, it could've been a flashback to Gordon, but I think he was referring to the future at this point.

**Btw**: Correction in my first chapter. The flowers are **Scarlet** Carsons. Whoops.

**Thank you** for your continued support! Keeps me writing diligently.

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"_Oh I do believe.. In all the things you say.."_

Evey's eyes peeked open just a bit. It was morning. Despite the fact that no sunlight ever entered the Shadow Gallery, she knew. She must've fallen asleep on the couch after Dominic left last night.

"_What comes is better than what came before."_

Evey shifted about on the couch for a bit before it registered that it was music that had awoken her. It suddenly caused her to stir and slowly rise from where she slept. _Music?_ Thought Evey as she slowly crept around the couch and towards the center hall in which the jukebox was located. The last time she had heard this particular melody was the night she left. When she left _him _with promises that she would return before his revolution. Oh Evey. She thought. Why did you wait so long?

Evey had hardly noticed how quickly her heart was beating as she slowly stepped around the couch and out into the main hall. She bit her bottom lip hesitantly; half hoping that V would be standing there, hunched over the jukebox. Oh, V! She would cry. Passed that point, she knew not what to say. But, God, did she want to see him standing there. Listening to_ their_ music.

"V?" She gently uttered.

A figure stirred in the shadows until a simple tug and click of an old fashioned light bulb brought light into the dimly lit abode. It was only Finch. Only, simply, invariably Finch. "Oh dear. I hope I didn't upset you."

"Oh." Evey bit her tongue a bit. "Not at all Eric. Not at all." Evey felt a weight in her stomach as her heart sunk.

"Thought it was best I'd wake you up. Seeing as how it's nearing noon already."

Noon? Evey's eyes widened just a bit. So it wasn't quite morning anymore.

"I noticed that you weren't at your corner and got a little worried. You know..." Finch raised his fist to cover a cough and idled before a moment before heading towards the exit. "I'll walk you to work, if you wouldn't mind keeping an old man company for a bit?"

"That would be delightful." Evey smiled as she quickly headed to her room to change. Her room, V's room. It was all the same now. Ever since he died, her room felt cold and lonely. The towering pillars of books offered no solace to her lonely soul, despite their offers of magical lands and happy endings. Since that day, she had taken lodging in his room. The feeling of his presence still lingered in that room. Evey knew well the little nuances which littered his room, and she appreciated every single one.

Evey and Finch chatted casually on their stroll towards her shop corner. It wasn't very far, perhaps about fifteen minutes distance from the Shadow Gallery. Upon arrival Finch offered her a gentle wave before heading off on his own business.

She quickly began to set up her shop. It was a simple deep green metal stand, self containing and of a circular shape. Beneath the main display, which expanded left and right with flowers of several sorts, was a drawer in which she kept the majority of her supplies, as well as a stool so that she may spend the day sitting about and chatting with passers-by. It wasn't a big shop by any means, but it was a labor of passion. Most prominently displayed among the other flowers were the Scarlet Carsons V loved so much. Little did she know that not so far away, by a lonely window, sat V as he admired her roses.

He had taken note that Finch had walked her to her shop, just as he often does when she doesn't wake up on time. V winced slightly at Finch's presence. It wasn't because he disliked the man. No, far from it. It was simply that V had come to face the terms that Finch had probably unveiled to Evey the severity of his imprisonment at Larkhill. Perhaps more. He had known all along that Finch would eventually reach Evey. He had expected as much. V had torn from the pages of Delia's diary the ones that pertained to his particular case in the hopes that he would keep the intimacies of his internment secret. One factor he had not counted on after his "death" was that Evey and Finch would be drawn so close together. "No more secrets, V. No more locked doors." He would say to himself in a reassuring tone.

V had often wondered about Evey. How close was she to Finch, really? What were her hobbies now? Did she have friends now? For the only times in which he observed her were from his room, when she tended to her flower shop. If he had dared more, he would be no better than the invasive regime which he had recently ousted. Not wishing to partake in the role of the "Eyes" and "Ears" of the former Norsefire administration, he gave Evey her privacy. However, he granted himself one selfish indulgence- admiring her among the roses.

Whenever Evey was not to be found at her stand, he entertained himself with movies or books.

It was during darker times that he pondered his own existence.

A new face? A man had approached her stand. Of course, this was initially of no alarm to V- for many a man stopped at her shop to buy roses for their lovers. However, this man had been chatting with her for a good ten minutes now, and on familiar terms it seemed. Upon closer inspection, V recognized the man as Finch's successor. Dominic. The man who three years prior conked poor Evey into unconsciousness. The man who was ultimately responsible for his reunion with Evey.

Dominic leaned towards Evey, whispering in her ear and casually handing her an accordion folder full of documents. "Intel has gathered some information about a possible Norsefire assembly."

"Thank you, Dominic." Evey would smile and quickly tuck the documents away alongside her supplies.

So, they had become acquaintances. V, however, did not know the depth of their relationship. They were clearly friends, yes. More than that? He could not deduce from their meeting. The truth being that they were simply platonic. What V did not know was the depth of Evey's involvement in the government, as well as her late night escapades under his name.

Dominic came and went, as did the day. As the evening approached Evey began to take down her shop and shut the compartments for her display. However, in her haste she forgot the folder which Dominic had handed her earlier in the day. The thought slipping her mind, she took up her belongings and headed off.

A chance.

V quickly began to prepare his outdoor attire, which remained the same as before. His trademark Fawkesian mask, wide brimmed hat. Hastily robing himself, he glanced over at his reflection in the mirror.

"What do you expect to find?" His image sneered at him through the glass of the mirror. "To be discovered is to condemn her. She cannot know you."

"Such is my love, to thee I so belong, that for thy right myself will bear all wrong." V had no intention of being discovered. Evey could never know his touch, as he could not know her's. The thought tore him up inside, and in order to spare her the torment of loving a man who could not return her affections, he had remained in seclusion.

"Fool." Retorted his silhouette. "Every breath you take is a testament to your cowardice. You're dead to he-"

V quickly vanished through the window and out onto the fire escape which was located just outside, ignoring the thoughts which raced through his head. Sometimes, in his loneliness, his guilt got the best of him. Left to wallow in his solitary misery, he felt as if he were going mad. There was a time when loneliness had once been his solace, memories of Evey made his seclusion unbearable.

It didn't take long for V to creep through the quickly darkening street and to Evey's flower stand. It was even quicker for him to pick the lock which lay between himself and Evey's documents. Hastily he snatched them up, and closed the doors of her cabinet once more as he retreated back to his abode. She would not notice until morning, by which time they would be back as she left him. She wouldn't have even the slightest inclination to believe that they had been abducted at all.

Upon his return V wasted no time in his inspection of the documents, but paid scrutinous care to not damage or displace anything. He took a seat upon his modest bed, and proceeded to open the documents.

Within the folder he found a myriad of files, photos, and letters which were in reference to the surviving Norsefire party which plagued the north of the country. He had heard about them in the news. He detested the very survival of the party, but he no longer had a means to act. He had played his part. It was time for the people of England to seize upon their liberation and prevent such extremists from ever regaining power again. V began to flip through what appeared to be schedules of meetings, profiles, and other miscellaneous information in regards to the party. It appeared that a meeting was being held the following night, in a pub not too far from V's part of town.

Despite the abundance of information in regards to the Norsefire party, V was unable to discern what connection Evey had with them. Could she? No, no, no. V put suspicions from his mind.

He resolved that he would don his infamous disguise and spy upon this meeting. Whatever Evey's connection was to these damned fascists, one thing was made apparent through contents of the folder, she would be there tomorrow night.

V made sure to place documents and folder alike into their respective places before the morning was to dawn. _Evey won't suspect a thing_, he reassured himself. _I will venture to this assembly merely to quell my curiosity regarding Evey's possession of these documents. Nothing more_.

And so, V retired.

Evey was already sound a sleep. She had remembered about her documents just as she arrived home and decided that she would retrieve them the following morning. She needed plenty of rest for tomorrow night. For once again, she would need to disguise herself under V's identity.

Evey did not know how long it would be until the country was free of the Norsefire disturbance. Nor did she know what to expect the following night.

One thing was for certain. "V" would make an appearance.

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Thanks for your reviews! Sorry it took so long. I've been sick lately.


	4. Vigilante

Sorry, long time no update! I hope to have the next chapter out sooner. This one is long and tedious, but I promise the next one will be filled with interaction! Thanks for the continued support!

Btw. The Evey repeated 5 times is a graphic novel reference. Just thought I'd throw that info in, lest the phrase seem a bit odd.

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"_Vi Veri Veniversum Vivus Vici." _

"_By the power of truth, I, while living, have conquered the universe."_

"_Personal motto? Isn't that about trying to cheat the devil?" It was on this line that Evey turned about to face her mentor to find her doorway empty. How could that be? Evey thought. Turning back to the half clouded mirror, V's reflection appeared as vigilant as ever. The situation made no sense at all. But then again, dreams didn't have to make sense._

"Uhn." Evey groaned as she rolled about as her slumber was interrupted by the incessant beeping of her alarm clock. Clumsily and quickly did she reach her hand out towards the nightstand at the right of the bed and slam her open palm upon the clock. The sun doesn't shine in the Shadow Gallery, and without these irksome knick knacks Evey couldn't hope to wake up on time. Turning onto her back Evey stared sleepily at the canopy of V's bed.

For the longest time Evey couldn't bring herself to even visit the Shadow Gallery let alone reside in it. The thoughts of V which flooded her mind upon merely entering his domain were too much for her to bear. That was until roughly one year ago, when she had convinced herself that she had come to terms with his death. Her hand returned from atop the alarm clock as it graced through her deep mahogany tresses, its twin clutching at a fold in the burgundy sheets which adorned V's bed. Now here she was, laying in his bed, waking from dreams wherein he still existed. Had she really come to terms with anything? Or had she returned for fear of losing touch with him?

Evey slowly turned onto her side, shutting her eyes momentarily as she buried her face in her soft peach pillow and inhaled deeply. Clean sheets. V's scent had long left his possessions, but Evey clung to the hope that even the most minute hint of his presence lingered on. After a few moments of lingering about V's bed, Evey eventually rose. She needed to prepare for the evening. First things first, she needed to retrieve her documents.

She stood for a moment, stretching. Being clothed in her pajamas, which consisted of a simple gray camisole and baggy cotton pants, she was ill prepared to head out the door immediately. She slipped on a pair of bunny slippers and drew about her a cotton robe as she headed towards her old room. Although she slept and dreamt in V's room, she had never wished to displace any of his belongings. All of her clothing and personal articles were safely tucked away in her room, in a closet nearly completely hidden by the towers of books which decorated the walls besides it. The door of this closet had actually been painted with the image of the spines of books, perhaps V did this out of boredom. Whatever the reason, Evey had always found it rather amusing.

She quickly threw on a pair of jeans and a sweater before grabbing her bag and heading out. Her hair was thrown into a messy bun and she made haste on her trip to recover her documents. Within that folder contained the information, whereabouts, and meeting information of several prominent Norsefire party members. There were several reasons why such documents could not be found in her possession, the most prominent of which being the possible grounds of her exposure.

When she opened her cabinet to find the documents intact, Evey breathed a sigh of relief. Despite the fact that a flower shop would be the least likely target of theft, she still had a bit of worry. Matters such as the ones she dealt in were not to be handled lightly carefully tucked the contents of the folder inside of her bag as she locked up her shop again and headed off.

Evey had planned to spend the rest of the day at home, going over the documents carefully and assessing the situation. Upon her return she quickly headed to the kitchen to lay the documents before herself.

The floor plans of the pub where they were planning to meet made one thing obvious to her. The only route in which she could hope to avoid detection would be down the fire escape and into one of the back stairwells. After reaching thus far, descending the stairs and entering the premises would be a cakewalk.

The stairs should land her on the right side of the room where the men would assemble. The rough estimate of men in attendance was about sixteen. This is where her mission got tricky. Her three main targets were ex-Fingermen. Some of Creedy's top black baggers. They had thus far eluded capture by police officials and continued to propagate heinous crimes even after the destruction of their former party leaders. They were infact, less of a formal party and more a band of thugs. The Norsefire party held an iron grip over the northern portion of England by means of fear and intimidation. That, coupled with their supporters quickly migrating and rallying to their cause in the north kept the thugs in power.

Evey spent several hours inspecting the floor plans of the building as well as the profiles of her three main targets. Archer, Knox, and Peter. All of them appeared formidable and intimidating just through stature alone. Evey knew she would need to catch them off guard.

Evey turned her head to glance over at the grandfather clock with stood at the end of the main hall, opposite the kitchen.

"Its about time I get going now, isn't it?" She sighed with a light smile as she tucked her documents back into their respective folder before abandoning them on the kitchen table and heading towards V's vanity room. Evey had long since had a suit tailored to her size and needs, and easily slipped into her own attire. She then took a seat in his chair, and pulling her hair up she carefully pinned it up before reaching for the wig nearby. Attire and wig set in place, she finally reached out for the mask. Gracefully and tenderly she brought it up to her face, and fastened it about the back.

Every time she participated in this routine, she couldn't help but think-_ this is what V felt_. Her heart beating fast, she turned about in the chair, to reach down and calmly dust her boot. Rising to her feet, she reached over to grab the heavy knife laden belt and fastened it about her waist. Next came the coat, and the matching hat. Then she quickly reached down into a drawer in V's vanity counter, and recovered a small device. It appeared to be a small square attached to a strip. This contraption was fit about her neck, just under her collar.

"Voila." She posed before the mirror. However, the "voila" which graced her lips was not hers. No. It was V's. It was a simple gadget by today's standards, but not one in high demand. She found it among V's articles when she had inspected his drawers. When she had found it, the configuration and pitch of the item had been honed to Creedy's voice. V had used this item on her, when he had her within his false prison. Now she was using it against the Norsefire rebels. Of course, she tinkered with the device until it spouted the proper voice.

After that, she was off. It didn't take her long to reach the vicinity of her destination. Quickly and stealthily she took the back alley route behind the building. She pulled herself atop a dumpster and jumped from there to the half lowered and rusted ladder of the fire escape. Here she began her ascent.

A few rooftops away, there was another figure clad in dark heading towards her target. Dressed in nearly identical attire, besides for having a larger stature. Behind the fixed grin of the mask, the man's true face was frozen with a grim expression. Numerous thoughts clouded his mind as he graced his way across the rooftops. His method of travel was, of course, more daring. Despite her training, Evey could not compete against V's supernatural abilities. He almost had to thank his creators. For if he were still a normal man, a man unaffected by their toxins and the hatred which they bred within them, he could never have brought about the revolution. However, at this moment, his thoughts dwelt on Evey.

_Evey, Evey, Evey, Evey, Evey._

For what reason did she possess such detailed information on the Norsefire rebels and their scheduled assembly? A flurry of thoughts swelled in his head. The scenario which he dreaded most of all was to think that Evey, his apprentice, had fallen within their ranks. Although V could see no logical explanation for this, such a thought could not be put from his mind. Perhaps she would exact revenge upon the remnants of the party, in his memory? No, no. Evey couldn't possibly do such a thing. There were going to be at least ten men at tonight's gathering. Maybe she knew one of the men? No, that wasn't right either. If she was a.. _friend _of any of the men, she wouldn't require such intelligence on the party.

Thoughts aside, V sensed he was nearing on his destination. Alright. Around the back, ascend the fire escape and into the back stairwell. According to the plans he had read, that was the only logical route of entry. The obvious entrances, such as the front and back doors would no doubt be guarded. He didn't want to draw any attention to himself. He didn't plan to stage "V's return."In fact, outside of the Norsefire party, nobody knew about "V's" escapades. Evey kept her work relatively quiet. Only the Norsefire need believe that he still exacted vengeance in the name of Justice.

He was swift in his motions, and reached the fire escape stealthily and unnoticed. Little did he know that another figure, dawning his Fawksian mask, was near the bottom of the stairwell, hidden in the shadows. She drew close to the door with seperated herself from the pub in which her targets were sure to enter soon. Peeking through the dirty peephole, she could vaguely make out the figures of a few men pacing about the room, and the bartender wiping up his counter. Two men sat at the counter conversing, the further of the two she could not identify- but the closest she assumed to be Knox, judging by his profile.

V descended down the stairs slowly. Despite the fact that this was obviously the safest route, it didn't necessarily mean it would be unattended. He had decided to continue slowly, as to not accidentally rouse any attention.

He paused. He heard the shuffling noise of silent steps from the base of the winding stairwell. A gloved palm raised gently to the hilt of his knives. Silently and cautiously he made his way towards the final turn of the stairs.

"Damnit." V whispered.

Had he gone mad? Did he really not realize he had muttered beneath his breath? No. He hadn't said a word. That whispered curse sparked his curiousity. He leant slightly over the side of the railing, peering down through the eyes of his mask onto the figure below.

Dear God. He was going insane, wasn't he? The eyes beneath the mask narrowed as he glared down upon his doppleganger who was standing still before the door. Surely, he was mistaken. So he drew his head back again, and breathed in before taking another momentary gander down at himself. This time he withdrew his head rapidly, for the figure below him began to stirr.

Evey turned about quickly, cape swishing behind her form. She tilted her head upwards sharply, revealing beneath the hat that ivory mask, intently staring where V once peeked over the railing. Had somebody spotted her? Had somebody unknowingly strayed down the stairs? Or worse- had she been followed?

One hand trailed up the length of her hip and to one of her knives. She felt the adrenaline pumping through her veins. Hopefully it was no more than one man. She had not the reflexes of V.

One step, then a second.

V heard the footsteps of the figure ascending the staircase. What sort of maniacal apparition was this? Was he truly mad or was this real? He was careless in his movements and had been detected. The true identity of his pursuer was yet unknown to him. For from the distance and angle at which he spied upon her, he had not made out the true size and stature of what was undoubtably a smaller figure.

Fifth step, then a sixth.

Time was running short. By this time, V had come to the realization that he was not hallucinating. Evey rounded the corner, only to find that she was alone. Must've been a rat. She shrugged. Little did she know, that just about the next flight of stairs, V was pinned against the wall in utter silence. The pieces had come together. It was _Evey_. Oh Evey.


	5. View

**Thanks for the reviews!** My spring break is over now, but I plan to keep writing. I know the last chapter ended on a cliffhanger, but thats because I really wanted to get this one out fast. In all honesty, I have no clue when or where this story is heading. Or how I'm going to even end it when it does reach that point. I just kinda wanted to write about them.

Thanks for the feedback! I'm starting to send responses to reviews. If you haven't received one yet, bear with me.

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It was nothing, Evey reassured herself as she turned to descend the stairs once more as her hand slowly eased off the hilt of her blades. She was feeling a bit anxious. There were a lot of people beginning to gather inside of the pub. She had known there would be a peephole in which she could use to monitor the positions of her targets, but she had not expected the condition to be so shabby.

Despite her best efforts, could only make out the vague silhouettes of various men. Oh, this was no good. Despite this setback, she would have to make the best of the situation. Three men sat at the counter now, then a fourth. The two nearest were Knox and Archer. She would have to hope that one of the other men seated with them would be Peter. For the remaining pair, she could not clearly identify. Other men conversed at various tables and corners of the room. Quickly, Evey devised her plan.

Okay, first kick the door outwards, roll in a few smoke smoke grenades, catch the men at the counter by suprise, and exit in the confusion. Sounded good on paper, didn't it? She couldn't rest until the message was clear across the board that the last thing England needed was another fascist dictatorship. These men had no regard for political process and if they had the power would most likely attempt to rise to power by a coup d'etat. Evey tensed as she waited for a group of men to walk away from the bar. Any moment now.

V raised his head slightly, tilting the ivory mask upwards and slightly to the left curiously, as to listen to Evey's movements. How could he have been such a fool? Seeing her at the bottom of the stairs, it all seemed so painfully clear. She had taken up his guise._ Evey_, his apprentice, donned the Guy Fawkes mask. _Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer, the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune- or to take arms against a sea of troubles._ Was he to attempt a silent escape? Unbeknownst to Evey? He nearly turned about on his heel, before the thoughts of her rushing into a room occupied with most obviously armed men, caused him to stop. Was Evey capable of the task she set before herself?

Too late.

He heard the almost inaudible creak of a never used doorway, and the receding clinks of metal against a hard floor. This was soon followed by confused yells coming from the direction of the pub, and as a heavy boot slammed open the door, V could hear the yells echo up the stairway even louder. She was already in. He cursed himself for having such a lengthy contemplation as to whether or not to stop her. It was too late now.

Quickly he rushed down the steps, gracing about the turn which lead to the final flight of stairs. The door was swinging, as if recently exited, and Evey was nowhere to be found. He ran down to the door, and pushed it open just slightly so that he might get a glimpse of the chaos. However, the smoke afforded that he would not see much. What he could make out was beyond his expectation of the situation. He could vaguely make out a swishing black cape cutting through the clouds of grey, and two men falling in succession. A few glints of silver allowed him to catch the movement of her knives, which though not as smooth as his (which was nearly impossible), definetely implied that this was not her first time.

However, V's admiration was cut short as he caught the movement of a darkened figure cutting through the ashy smoke. Evey, caught up with the execution of her targets, was facing the bar, her back turned towards the assailant. She had subdued most of the men in attendance by sacrificing four of her six knives, leaving her with the two she now weilded in each hand. Peter and Archer were already dead and her blades had just smoothly fit themselves into Knox's abdomen. Knox's corpse doubled over against her shoulders as she forcefully removed her blades, nudging the heavy corpse off of her form at which point it lifelessly tumbled to the floor. She still hadn't noticed the figure slowly advacing through the smoke.

The advancing man cautiously began to reach into his form, quite possibly into his coat. This suspicion was reaffirmed when his hand reappeared, weilding what took the form of a small handgun. A knot formed itself in V's stomach. He was given no choice.

Stealthily his figure cut through the smoke, behind Evey's secret assailant. A gloved hand quickly reached around and cupped the man's mouth, pulling him backwards and invariably into his unsheathed blade. The man uttered a cry, which V attempted to muffle in vain with his hand.

As a reaction to this, Evey spun about. She saw the victim, eyes frozen in horror, as a dark hand slid away from his gaping mouth. She heard the blade withdraw from his form, followed by the sound of metal cutting through the air before being quickly sheathed. It was only a matter of seconds before the man's limp physique tumbled to the ground, but for the two masked vigilantes, it felt like an eternity.

There they stood, face to face. By now the smoke had begun to settle about their feet, and it was crystal clear that neither of them were hallucinating. V stood there, gazing down upon his own visage. Both hands reached before his form, folding as he shifted his legs apart slightly. The lesser figure slowly moved to a standing position, sheathing her daggers carefully. She was trembling, but trying hard to contain it. After several long moments, the silence was broken as the sound of V's voice cut through the room.

"Hello, Evey." Spoke V in a calm and reassuring tone. As unaffected and stoic as ever, he peered down at her through the eyes of the mask. There was no point in running. He had accepted the fact that he had been discovered, and was ready to greet the consequences in a bitter sweet reunion. Despite his pledge to keep Evey unaware of his existance, he secretly relished in the idea of once more enjoying her company.

Evey stood perfectly still. Hello? Is that all he has to say to me? Evey felt her emotions stirring in the pit of her stomach while her words got stuck in her throat. He had greeted her just as plainly after he had tortured her those years ago. The delight she would've derived from his presence was drowned by her fury. Although the Fawksian mask spoke nothing of her true visage, it could hardly hide the tension that began to thicken the air and lay heavily in the gap between them. She tilted her head downwards towards the floor, and V felt a sudden pang of guilt at her action. "I thought you said _no more lies_..." Although the mask could conceal her tears, she could not control the choke in her voice as she spoke. One hand slowly reached upwards and slid beneath the collar of her cloak and shirt before suddenly jerking. Lowering her palm she unveiled the device which had been fastened about her neck, allowing her to imitate V's voice.

"What happened to _only_ _truth_?" She cried aloud, now in her voice. Evey's voice. A voice he had not heard so clearly in two full years. She threw the device at him, to which V could only let it hit and slide of his chest before allowing it to fall into his palm.

"Evey, you must understand it was all in your best interest-" V spoke in as soothing a tone as he could muster, granted the situation at hand.

"I have the ability to decide what is in my best interest." She tilted her head upwards, facing him now.

"Judging by the man I just intercepted, this raid didn't seem to be a good idea- if you're concerned about your safety, that is." V retorted.

V appeared just as unreasonable as ever in Evey's eyes. She had thought, after the suffering they endured together, she had reached a point in V unknown to anybody but herself... But seeing him now; in this situation, through this conversation, she didn't feel like she knew him at all. Curiosity and confusion clouded her senses, and she was unmistakably overwhelmed with a sinking sadness which began to creep upon her.

Noticing he had upset her, V took a step forward as he extended his hand. "Evey, please. You're hardly capable of reason at this moment. If we could just sit down to talk about this, all things may be sorted out in due time."

This was the man she had dreamt of. She had imagined him standing by the Jukebox, beckoning her to dance with him. This was the man that taught her freedom and fearlessness. The man that changed England. She knew there was nothing more she wanted than to watch The Count of Monte Cristo with him voicing over the familiar lines. And yet, despite this, the emotions of the moment which stirred within her brought rise to the sorrow and anger she had felt during his absence. She believed he was dead. Dead! Just when she thought she could trust him. She would've thrown it all away just to disappear and be with him. She was furious. He betrayed her trust. Caught up in the heat of the moment, Evey fell victim to her raging emotions. Her gloved fingers curled into the palms of her hands, balling into fists at either side of her form. "Don't touch me!" She shrieked as she refused his hand.

V, slightly taken aback, retreated his offer as he watched her turn on her heel and head towards the fire escape and quite definitely towards home. There was no reasoning with Evey when she was upset. That was a fact he knew very well. The only thing he could do in a situation such as this was to let her storm out on him. However, he did not fear losing her trail.

Having unveiled himself to Evey, he was no longer required to take to the shadows and seclusion in which he had resided since_ that _November the fifth. He would give her time to relax and wait until the following night before pressing upon her to allow him to explain his circumstances. And so, V set himself back towards his own home. He only hoped that Evey would at least manage some sleep.

Arriving at the Shadow Gallery, Evey found herself both emotionally and physically exhausted. Just as the lift took her to her level, she proceeded to stumble out and towards the polished mahogany door which lead to the Shadow Gallery. No residents of the building knew of this level, nor did the current landlords perhaps. Whether they did or not, it was hardly within reason that somebody would venture down this far. So just as V had done when she stayed with him, Evey had left the door to the Shadow Gallery unlocked. This allowed Finch and Dominic the ability to come and go as they pleased. Pushing the door forward, Evey slinked against the wall tiredly before she continued to shut the doorway. She paused for a moment, as her hand hesitantly lifted itself to the heavy double bolt locks which adorned the door. Slightly rusted and hardly ever used, it took a moment for Evey to jerk them loose. With a heavy sigh, she slammed the locks into their respective holes and secured the door shut.

The Shadow Gallery wasn't open tonight.

She began disrobing as he headed towards V's room. She had removed her fedora hat and cloak by the time she entered the doorway and proceeded to set her articles aside. Eventually she slid out of her attire until she found herself in the simple gray dress shirt which she wore beneath her "V" attire.

Then, quite simply, she let herself fall into the soft comforts of his burgundy sheets. Despite the prior incidents which were heavy on her mind, she was fast asleep in mere minutes. She had never felt more tired and exhausted in her entire life.


	6. Virulence

**Whoo**. Been a while. This chapter is a bit long, I'm afraid. I know it ends at a terrible spot, but I want to dedicate the next chapter to what ensues. Thanks for the reviews! Keeps me writing diligently.

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_Its been three days, _Dominic pondered. Three full days since Evey's planned raid on the Norsefire assembly in the pub. He wasn't worried, no. Dominic was part of the "clean up crew." He personally saw to it that he would oversee any operations dealing with Evey's late night excursions.

Having arrived at the scene mere hours after Evey had done the job, Dominic and his personal team were able to examine the evidence undisturbed. Nothing of Evey's had been left behind, and all evidence pointed towards a clean sweep. Well, all except for a fourth body. Evey rarely killed anybody but her prime targets, those whos crimes were irreperable and would find any way in which to elude the courts as well as coppers. Lackeys, gangsters, and passersby were peacefully subdued or discouraged. However, he had found a corpse not on her target list. Though he supposed it must have been in self defense, which was as understandable as it was possible. _Three days_. He knew Evey was unharmed, but it was quite unlike her to not contact him after a mission. He sighed as he tossed the pen he had been toying with down upon his desk. Women. He'd never understand them, much less a woman who took on the guise of a masked vigilante.

_Knock, knock_.

V let a sigh escape his lips during the silence in which nobody answered the door. Today would be the second day he waited outside for her. He was surprised initially to find the door to his home locked. Locked! A place of immense knowledge and wonder, closed off from the world. For he never locked it during his residency, it was just that man was not ready to find it. Only in rare occassions, such as Evey's initial arrival until her awakening, had he found it necessary to bolt the doors shut. Though at first a suprise, the locked door before him was steadily becoming a looming reality.

"Come in." Dominic called towards the visitor behind his office door. The knocking had surprised him, and he took a moment to gather himself as Finch entered the room. "Oh, Eric. You startled me for a minute there."

"I sure feel welcome." Finch muttered as he pulled up a chair next to his former colleague. "So what are you working on lad?" He inquired.

Dominic, not sure as to whether Finch's tone of voice hinted at exhaustion or restlessness, relaxed as he leant back in his chair. He nodded in the direction of a folder which was placed upon the desk before himself and Finch. "Same old clean up."

Finch leaned forward as he began to idly flip through the file. "Ah. All went well I suppose?"

Dominic quirked a brow at the curious behavior of his mentor. Since his retirement, Finch appeared unusually restless and quiet odd infact. Perhaps he had very little planned for his long awaited retirement. He often spent days in this manner, visiting the office and poking about the nooks and crannies. Sometimes he would regale the younger staff members with stories from his prime, their personal favorites being the events leading up to the revolution. "I guess you can say that, yeah. Its just I haven't heard from her yet."

"How longs it been?"

"Three days."

"Are you sure shes alright?" Finch tidied up the folder as he slunk backwards into his chair.

"Quite positive. I examined the scene and everything. There's no sign of anything otherwise."

"Checked the surveillance videos?" Finch eyed the young man. What would he do without me?

"Well. Actually.. No. I had quite forgotten about them, but the evidence I've gathered is rather definitive. I guess it couldn't hurt to pop the video in, just for a gander." Damn. The old man was always a step ahead. Why couldn't he learn to play golf or find a hobby? He'd much prefer it to being chastised at his own job. With a slight reluctance, he opened a nearby drawer and shuffled about through a file of sleeved CDs to one labeled for the night Evey had struck. Popping it into his drive, he awaited for the video to show up on the screen.

The angle of the camera was a wide view of the pub, facing directly towards the bar. Dominic instantly recognized three of the men seated and conversing in almost direct and center view of the camera. "Like sitting ducks." Dominic smirked.

"Fast forward it. I don't much care to watch Norsefire thugs chat."

The events of Evey's attack were quickly replayed in a matter of mere minutes as Dominic fast forwarded through the scene until Finch uttered a sharp noise- to which Dominic quickly paused the tape and looked towards Finch. "What is it?"

Finch motioned towards the video. It took a moment to register, but Dominic quickly identified the silhoette standing opposite of Evey's. Her twin? No. The original? Couldn't be. "You don't think thats-"

"Can't be. He was dead.. And if he wasn't dead then, he surely died in the explosion.."

"Then who is it?"

"Don't know." Finch squirmed a bit in his seat, and his expression displayed a look of disbelief. "But whoever it is.." Finch reached up to hit the play button on the remote, which was still within his shocked partner's grip. The video played until its end, wherein the remaining scenes unraveled the events of the prior night. "..He's good."

Both men took a glance at one another before returning their eyes to the tape, where they caught the smaller of the two forms motioning angrily before turning about on her heels and fleeing through the direction from whence she came. Moments after Evey had cleared the scene, the second figure moved towards the bar. Rolling their shoulders back and forth, the figure lifted both arms before slamming their fists heavily upon the counter and quickly retreating as mysteriously as he had came.

"Suppose I should go check on her?" Dominic had already rose from his seat and slipped on his jacket by the time he mentioned the idea to Finch.

Finch, reclining lazily back into the chair glanced up towards his former apprentice. "..Need company?"

- - -

_Creak, ricket, and squeak_.

Dominic was always uneasy about the lift which lead down towards Evey's home. He anxiously tapped his foot as he lifted his wrist in order to view his watch. It was 4:00pm. In his other arm he cradled a brown paper bag, full of groceries. Eggs, butter, toast.. He figured he'd treat Evey to her favorite snack, Eggs-in-a-Basket. Perhaps he could manage to figure out of anything was amiss following her pub raid, or if he could possibly cheer her up.

The lift eventually landed its mark, and Dominic cautiously stepped forward and out of the blasted contraption. As soon as both feet had landed upon solid ground, he let out an annoyed sigh. "Perhaps I might take the stairs next time." He muttered below his breath, before making his way towards the Shadow Gallery entrance. He looked at his watch again, as the second hand ticked around the circle. It was 4:02pm now.

So entranced was he in his little habit, he hardly noticed the man before him as he stopped to enter the Shadow Gallery. Glancing up from his watch he was greeted by an eeriely close ivory mask, grinning blindly into his face no more than two inches between their noses. He would've bumped into the man had he not looked up. However, caught by suprise he quickly shuffled backwards; a misstep causing him to fall onto his rear as the grocery bag tumbled on the floor besides him. "Bollocks!" He grunted as he rubbed the small of his back with one hand, the other being used to prop himself up as he glanced upwards at the figure.

"What's the big deal Eve?"

From his vantage point on the floor, as well as being focused on the recovery of his scattered groceries, Dominic hardly realized that the figure before him was far more imposing than that of Evey's.

The masked figure only slightly tilted his head to the side, in observation of the man. He recognized him from Evey's shop, from the Jordan Tower. Yes, this was Finch's assistant. What was his name? Dominic. Ah, yes.

"I'm afraid you are mistaken. I am not _Eve_." V let his tone of voice curl on the pronunciation of Evey's name. Behind the mask, V quirked his brow at the 'nickname' this man had dubbed upon Evey. It was not pet name or term of endearment, but it was still a nickname nonetheless, and that signified atleast a slight closeness between the two.

"Bloody 'ell, Eve. Quit joking." Dominic had already risen to his feet with his back turned to the figure as he gathered the last of the groceries and hastily shoved them in the bag. One carton of eggs was still in hand as he turned about to, unknowingly, face V. "Take that bugger of a device of-"

V nodded slightly as Dominic reached the realization that the figure before him was not Evey, but of V. He recognized his voice, it was just like Evey's device. Dominic could not follow the man's gaze, but he would have never guessed that V was far more fixated upon the food article within his hand than himself. "Eggs? That makes for an awkward courting gift, don't you think?"

"You're Codename V aren't you?" He coughed slightly to get the tremble out of his voice. Was he afraid? Or was it shock and disbelief that made him feel so anxious?

"What do you plan to make with those?"

"Well.. Uh. Nothing. They're for my mum."

V titled his mask upwards as he inhaled lightly. "Certainly." He replied, with an overwhelming sarcasm in his voice.

"What are you doing here?"

"I, as you might see, am a man in a predicament. You see, I have invoked the wrath of quite the maiden. That, my good fellow, is never a good thing."

Dominic placed the carton back inside of the paper back as his free hand slowly trailed across the navy blue fabric of his coat and towards his standard issue glock.

"Ah, ah, ah." V warned by waving a single finger back and forth. "I can assure you I mean neither you or Evey any harm. I am merely here in order to clear up a misunderstanding, and have found myself at the mercy of her anger."

Dominic winced inwardly at his accusation.

"Perhaps, young man, you can be of assistance. I would like very much to speak to Evey, if just once, to quell any bad blood she may harbor against me. All I ask is for a moment of your time. Do not fret, for I am making no attempt to steal your companion away." V threw back his cape over his shoulder, and bringing his right arm bent at the elbow and across his waist, offered the man a bow of courtesy.

This accusation was even more embarassing than the last. It was one thing to be accused of not trusting somebody, but another to be accused of emotions of the private sort. Had he been interested in Evey? No, no. They were just "co-workers." He supplied, she delivered. That sort of thing. They strictly met on business, well, when they were not watching movies, cooking together, or enjoying a leisurely stroll. Okay, maybe he had to admit to himself, he liked her just a little. Maybe. Perhaps he enjoyed her company? Yes. He enjoyed her company, which by now he had been 3 full days without and had been brought to the brink of concern for her well being. Is that not normal for a platonic relationship? Oh, bollocks. I'll dwell on this later.

"Well?" V's voice suddenly shattered Dominic's chain of thoughts, and he was abruptly thrust back into his current situation. Codename V was asking him to help him.

"Well... Hm... You see..." Dominic fumbled over his words. He wasn't sure what to do. If there was anything he could imagine Evey wanting, it was for V to be alive. However, she must have had a reason for not opening the door, which is why V was in this very situation. Against his better judgement, he reluctantly offered his assistance. "Sure, I guess." Dominic knew that despite Evey's anger, the only way in which things could be resolved and gain any closure would be a meeting between the two. "Just promise not to upset her."

V only tilted his head slightly in a half acknowledging nod as Dominic shuffled towards the door, groceries in hand, and gave it three heavy knocks. "Evey?" He called toward the door, hoping that his voice would lure her closer. "Evey, its me, Dominic."

Moments later the unlatching of the double bolt locks resounded through the cavernous walls of the Shadow Gallery and the door swung wide open. "Oh Dominic, you wouldn't belie..." Evey's eyes and apparent relief faded as she noticed the darkened silhouette looming in the vicinity behind Dominic. Quickly relief shifted to apprehension as she returned her gaze angrily towards Dominic. "You're helping him? Isn't it obvious why I locked the door?"

Dominic stood speechless. He offered a confused gaze and a shrug as V moved to the forefront, staring down at Evey through the holes of his mask. "Barred entrance from my own home, I see." V turned his gaze onto Dominic, as if signaling it was time for him to take his leave.

Dominic thus shifted his gaze towards Evey. Did she want him to stay? Or go? 'Evey' he whispered inaudibly. Was it safe even? The V that Dominic knew was far different than the stories Evey had often regaled him with. He was a psychopathic terrorist. For Christ's sake, that very man knocked him out three years ago in the Jordan Tower. Had Evey not interfered, he would probably be dead- although this was a fact he didn't come to terms with until after the whole ordeal.

Evey reluctantly gave Dominic the okay by a slight smile tugging at her lips and a sad affection in her eyes. _It was okay,_ she told him.As much as Evey hated to admit it, she wanted to see V just as much as she wanted to refuse him. She wanted to fight him just as much as she longed to succumb to his will.

Dominic was cautious in his movements as he handed the grocery bag to Evey, who set it on the floor beside her.

"I'll talk to you later, Eve. Just, check in once and a while, okay?" He felt nervous next to V, now more than ever. He nervously straightened his coat as his gaze shifted between the two. "Guess I'll be off then."

"I'll call you later. Okay? I'm fine." She soothed.

"Alright." He offered a hand up as a stiff wave and was on his way back towards the damned lift and out of their view.

V and Evey were left standing on opposite sides of the doorway, and V watched her eyes trail after Dominic as he left. What was that look in her eyes? Did she want to avoid his gaze or linger on that silly man? "Evey." V outstretched both hands.

"I hate you!" Evey spat.

V was quickly caught off guard as Evey's door was being swung shut on him. Quickly, and with all his strength he pushed his weight against the door, keeping it ajar. Forcing his figure through he thrust the door inwards with enough force to repel Evey a few steps back, where she caught her balance on a small table fixed against the wall. V, seizing upon his opportunity threw himself over her form, grabbing both of her wrists and forcing them behind her back. He quickly circled one hand about both of her wrists, and lifted his free one onto her shoulder in an attempt to quell her struggling. "Evey, please. Calm down." He held her back against the wall, his own form mere inches from hers.

"Let me go!" She hissed.

"Not until you calm down." Hands still enclosed about her wrists and upon her shoulder, he pulled Evey off of the wall and spun her about, so he was behind her, guiding her as he forced her to walk. "I'll tell you why, I'll tell you everything. In good time, I promise Evey."

Evey frustrated and angry, began to whimper. "Why didn't you come back? You knew how much I wanted you to live."

"Till beauty came to snap all ties. The maid, abolishing the past." Oh, how could he tell her? They could never love one another. How could she love a man who's face she could not know? Who's touch she could not feel? She was beautiful. She had opportunities. He couldn't rob her of her youth. He had hoped, even against his own feelings, for her to move from their past together- to find a man worthy of loving her.

"Damnit, V. No more quotations! I want to talk to _you_." She cried, her squirming and struggling renewed as he moved her through the Shadow Gallery. "Where are we going?"

"To the only place in this Sanctuary that has its privacy intact.. I hope. I do not wish to have any guests intrude upon our conversation. I must admit, I do not know how many other _men_ have access to your abode." Men. In the place of "people" or "others" he had chosen to say "men." He felt a little bitter as he did so, and gritted his teeth lightly as the words escaped his mouth.

Evey, the keen specimen of a woman she was, instantly picked up on his choice of words. Despite her rage at his abandonment of her, she let a coy little smile escape the corner of her lips. Of course, V couldn't see because he had her back turned to him, but he had a lingering feeling that she had picked up on his phrasing. Blasted women. Could they all figure these things out so slyly? He only hoped he had not given himself away. "Just the ones who's company I enjoy, seeing as how I was left utterly, utterly alone." Was her smug reply.

His grip tightened momentarily, causing her to wince. Regretting his actions, he let out a light sigh. That is, in a sense, what he was working towards, wasn't it? For her to forget the daydreams of running away with her masked hero. To settle down in a pleasant and safe life in this emerging new world.

And so, they arrived upon the door to his room. Lifting his hand from her shoulder, he pushed the door open and forced her to walk before him by slightly tightening his grip and pushing her forward. Reluctantly, Evey stumbled into his room. A backwards kick of the boot sent the door slamming shut. Loosening his grip, he allowed her to wrench herself free of his grasp as he turned about to lock the door. Quickly, stumbling, Evey found herself leaning against one of the sturdy posts of his bed, rubbing her left wrist soothingly with her hand.

There she found herself, trembling against the bed post of the greatest man she ever knew.


End file.
